Faye watches the stars, her bare body exposed to the moonlight, arms spread out in the icy grass beneath her. Her her legs are hooked over the shoulders of her lover and, as of that evening, her husband, as he pleases her.

It's one of the coldest nights of the year, yet here they are unclothed, in the middle of a paddock. This wasn't their intention but Kratos had been driving Faye to her wedding gift when the trip became a little too steamy, and Kratos had insisted that they pull over.

"Maybe Hawaii?" Faye asks between shallow breaths. Her fingers dig deep into the soil, beads of sweat gathering where her back rises off the ground.

They have not yet decided on a location for their honeymoon, but can at least agree that they need to go somewhere warm to escape this dreaded winter. "What about Bali?"

Kratos grumbles between her legs, his mouth too occupied to answer. She'll take that as a 'maybe'.

She quietens, and allows the sensation of the man between her thighs take over her. It isn't long before she is seeing stars, figurative ones now, and her legs tighten involuntarily around her love as she calls out to him. Kratos is a perfectionist, after all, and she is almost disappointed that she hadn't lasted longer. She is still breathless and trembling when her husband crawls back up her body, collapsing at her side. He nudges into her neck and plants a salty kiss under her ear.

"Greece?" Faye smirks into his forehead once she has settled. Kratos props himself up and stares at her, absolutely deadpan.

"No."

"Hm, well it was worth a try." She laughs.

Kratos rises, and lifts his beloved to her feet. Even when she stands on her toes, he still has to lean down to join their lips. He pulls her close to him, naked bodies pressing together as he kisses her deeply.

"Come," He says as they pull apart. They walk hand in hand back to the car, scooping up their clothing as they go. Faye hops the last few metres, eager to get out of the cold and Kratos jogs to catch up, giving her rear a quick squeeze as he passes her.

They hop in, and Faye reaches for the heater. The newlyweds dress clumsily in their seats and as quickly as they had parked, they are off again.

Kratos pulls into the driveway, and Faye slides out in a state of disbelief.

"A house?!" She exclaims, taking in the sight before her. "Your gift is a house!? Kratos, this is one of your designs!" Her hands cover her mouth, she could recognise his work anywhere.

It is the first house of Project Midgard, and alongside Brok, Kratos had constructed it entirely by hand. Sitting high on a hill, their new home has a perfect view of Jotunheim Tower, their first completed building together.

Faye's entire being swells with euphoria and Kratos wraps his arms around her waist from behind. She arches her neck to face him in his embrace.

"I love it." She breathes onto his lips. She feels a small smirk against her mouth and Faye is startled when she is lifted, bridal style, their lips not parting once as they stumble inside.

The house is large and very open; a balance of steel, glass and onyx flooring. Faye is delighted that the abode has been left unfurnished, suspecting that Kratos intends for her to decorate their new home herself.

"Upstairs," Kratos prompts, and Faye is curious as the architect guides her. He stops a little way down the hall and at the on first door on the left. Faye peers in and gasps.

Over their years together, Faye had begged Kratos to consider children, and he would always decline. Given his past, Faye understood, and although she would still ask occasionally, she had long since accepted that theirs would be a childless relationship.

Faye is bewildered when she sees the small wooden cot before her, delicate woodland creatures carved into the sides. The realisation hits her and she turns to him, mouth gaping. Kratos takes her by the shoulders and holds her both tenderly and desperately.

"I will get it right this time," His voice is wobbly, and his eyes are honest. His grip on her tightens and she holds her hands on his, eyes leaking. "Will you help me?"

She answers with a breathy "Yes!" and leaps into his embrace, their noses brushing together.

"We will be a family," Kratos promises, and he swears to himself that they will be, and that he will not fail them.

Kratos unlocks the front door and clambers into the empty house, placing Faye's urn on the shelf by the entrance. He tiredly drops his satchel on the ground on the way to the lounge room and collapses in a heap on the structured leather couch.

His palms find his face and he groans loudly.

"Malaka!" He shouts, and his eyes start to sting. He belligerently pulls up the cushions surrounding him and Greek profanities leave his mouth as he hurls them across the room.

He is still yelling when he realises that his phone is vibrating against his thigh. He reaches into his pocket and answers the call.

"Now what?" He asks, wearily.

His breath catches as he hears his son's name amongst frantic words and his phone drops to the floor. Snatching up his keys, Kratos rushes for car, and the house shakes as he slams the door behind him.

Kratos barges into the school reception. He catches a glimpse of his son through the sick room door and is horrified at what he sees. The small boy is covered in red, his face is shredded. The intense blue of his eyes stand out against the painted skin, and they make contact with his father's through the crowd of teachers and paramedics. Kratos desperately advances, but is roughly pulled into the office before he can get close.

Freya closes the door behind them and pushes him into it, furious.

"Don't you dare go near him," She threatens, palms on his chest. "You are lucky that I haven't called the child protection services." Kratos slides down the door, onto the vinyl flooring and his hands meet his temples, overwhelmed.

"What happened?" He manages, through his shock.

"You have neglected that boy for too long, that's what happened."

"Neglected..."

"He said that he did this to impress you! Because you're never around, he thought it would get your attention!"

"He did this to himself?" Kratos feels sick.

"Yes he did it to himself!" She crouches down in front of him and snatches his wrist, shaking it in the space between them. "Because he saw you do it! He thinks this is normal!" She throws his arm back in his face.

Kratos is beside himself.

Freya calms down. She knows that despite appearances, Kratos isn't a malicious man and always has the best interest of his family at heart. She sits on the floor next to him and sighs.

"What happened, Kratos?"

"He was angry this morning, I took him to pick up... Faye. He was upset because he thought I didn't care. Freya, you must let me see him."

"Let the medics do their job, old man. You know that Atreus struggles to control his anger. Why did you let him come to school when he was in this way?"

"I do not know... I thought he needed the distraction."

Freya stands and extends her hand to him, he needs no assistance getting up he but takes it anyway.

"No. He needed his father. I am here to teach him, and I care for Atreus deeply, you know I do, but there is only so much I can offer a child who has just seen the remains of his mother." Students peer through the window to get a look at the man whose son brought a knife to school. Freya shuts the blinds and they sit on a small bench, knees brushing together.

"Kratos, you need to be present. I didn't even know that Faye had a husband until Atreus had become sick. I know you work a lot but you have always kept your distance from him, why?"

Kratos hunches over and rubs at his developing migraine. Freya leans in expectantly, and Kratos pushes out a long, trying breath.

"I had a daughter. Before Faye. Due to my negligence, Calliope and her mother were killed in a car accident. I never let myself get close to anybody again, fearing that they would receive the same fate. I isolated myself for many years. I turned to drugs, alcohol, women. I tried to end my own life. When I failed, I took it as a second chance and returned to work. I met Faye, but now... It's happening again. Atreus is cursed just by being my child. I've lost everybody I have ever loved and I cannot lose him too."

"So you think that by pushing him away, you are sparing him? Is that it?" Kratos says nothing. It sounds a lot worse when she puts it that way. Freya goes white in disbelief and slaps him across the face.

"That is so selfish! I am sorry about your family, truly, but that boy out there has been to hell and back! Atreus has cancer and he believes you think he is weak because of it!" She grabs his arms, nodding at the bandages. "And this needs to stop. I don't care what kind of pain you're in, this is not the kind of example your boy needs. You are all he has left. Be strong for him."

Freya is visibly stressed. She is furious at the man but can understand his history. She puts a hand on his knee and her voice softens.

"It gets better, Kratos. It does. Did I tell you that I had a son, too? He was taken from me, years ago." Kratos looks at the woman, perplexed. He had never considered her past. Freya's eyes are distant, and full of sorrow.

"He was hidden away by my abusive ex-husband. When I finally won custody, the bastard did the unimaginable and took our son's life in a murder-suicide. It was Baldur's first day at university. He had wanted to become a teacher, like me. I know you would never intentionally harm your son, you love him. But Odin loved Baldur with all of his heart, and it was the way he handled it that lead to their demise." She strokes his bandages, "The thoughts you have. I know them too. But you have Atreus, and he will not leave you." They stand and Freya hands Kratos a plastic bag, the bloodied knife inside. She gives him a sympathetic smile and gestures to the door.

He gives her a nod before he turns the handle, stepping through. The medics have left and his son sits in the lobby alone, head hung low. On his lap is Chaurli, there are teardrops on his shell.

Kratos approaches, hesitantly. He stops before his child and kneels, lifting his head in both hands. He is careful not to make contact with the gashes that pollute his face. Amongst the mess of cotton and tape, on the boy's left cheek, are a series of cuts forming a shape that is very familiar to Kratos. His thumb hovers over them, hands unsteady.

I did this to him...?

His shoulders shake, he leans his head into his son's chest and he cries. Not stifled sobs, but audible, anguished bellows.

"Father, I…" Atreus puts the tortoise aside and holds his father's head in his lap, unsure how to react. "I'm sorry..."

Kratos hold his son's waist as he steadies his breathing, small hands tight on his. He notices through swollen eyes, Atreus' bandaged arm, mirroring his own.

"Do not be sorry for this." He can barely push the words out. He grits his teeth. "Let us go."

Kratos straightens up as Atreus puts his animal friend back into his enclosure. He holds a hand out to his son, who takes it uncertainly.

Their feet crunch in the gravel below them, but other than the sound of their footsteps, the walk to the car is silent. Both feeling as confused, exhausted and ashamed as the other.

Kratos opens the car door for his son, the front door this time, and helps him into his seat.

"Atreus," Kratos says his son's name calmly.

"Yes Sir?"

"I want you to know that I miss your mother. Every day. Every morning I wake up, every night I go to sleep. Her last words to me were, 'Do not let him feel alone,' and I have failed you both in doing just that. I will not fail you again, that is my promise."

Kratos reaches for his son's tiny hand, the hand that had inflicted so much damage, and holds it tightly the whole way home.